The Palm Of His Hand
by dear cecil
Summary: It took a bit of time, but Dell's finally got the RED Soldier trained. Here's a demonstration of just how broken in he is. Warning: Dub-con, bondage, mild torture. Dedicated to prawnsy.


I don't even know. My first time writing Soldier, and he is intentionally wildly out of character. What a great idea.

Inspired by and dedicated to prawnsy, the dirty RED.

* * *

Dell grinned as he looked down at his captive. The RED Soldier had been a fine catch, a fine one indeed. At first there had been a flurry of activity from his team, trying to get him back from behind enemy lines, to exact revenge on BLU, to do anything other than sit around and let their comrade have who-knew-what done to him… but that had stopped, probably on RED's orders. By now they had a replacement, and they'd learned to fight with him as easily as if their previous Soldier had never existed.

Amazing, how humans were so quick to adapt to what was around them.

Take Soldier: In the beginning, he had fought like a hellhound, even managing to break through his restraints once or twice. Dell had been quick to beat defiance out of the man (and enjoyed it; there was no shame in reveling in a meting out of punishments, now and again), but he had kept on coming, stubborn as a mule. It wasn't until Dell brought in the heavy artillery that the man backed down, but when he had, he'd done so completely.

The former RED was tame, or as close to tame as anyone like him could be. He'd been born to be in the top ranks of the pack—fast, vicious, unmerciful, a little crazy—and it still shone through at moments. But for the most part, Dell had the Soldier eating out of his hand. As he turned off the stove and plated some toast, eggs, and bacon, Dell wondered if that might be true literally as well as figuratively.

"Mornin', Solly," he said to his pet, still preoccupied by that thought, as he walked down to his basement. He hadn't kept the Soldier in the BLU Base, of course; too much opportunity for him to kill himself, or to starve, or to be captured if the REDs got lucky. No, Dell had smuggled Soldier to his home, and put him down in the basement. It wasn't as bad a deal as it sounded. He had given Soldier a bed, a little calendar, he always fed him at regular mealtimes. He could even see out through the tiny window near the ceiling.

Unfortunately, that fighting spirit made Soldier difficult to get along with sometimes, even if he was broken in. When he didn't reply, Dell stopped short, plate of food held high and clearly catching Soldier's attention.

"I _said_," Dell bit out, "mornin', Solly."

"Morning, sir," Soldier mumbled. He seemed to still forget sometimes that Dell could see when he was looking away, having confiscated his helmet.

"'Scuse me?" He moved into Soldier's line of vision and stared him down. "I'm not quite sure I heard you right."

"Good morning… Engie." Soldier's whole body was tense, as though he wanted to look away but couldn't. Perfect.

"Oh, that's what you said." Dell laughed. "My hearin' must be gettin' worse. Breakfast look good?"

Soldier nodded jerkily.

"Well then, come and get it." Dell laid the plate on the table in the middle of the room and turned to walk back up the stairs, still grinning.

"Engie," Soldier called out. "I can't… I need help."

Dell turned back around, raising his eyebrows in exaggerated surprise. "Somethin' wrong with your hands, buddy?"

Soldier scowled at the ground for a second, then forced himself to look Dell in the eye again. "I can't walk that far. These chains—" He hesitated at Dell's expression, then restarted. "My leash won't let me reach it. So I need… help. Would you please help me?" Dell could practically hear his teeth grinding from across the room.

"Aw, well, that's quite the predicament you're in, Solly." He rubbed his chin, then nodded. "All right, then. Seein' as you asked so nicely, I don't see why not!" Walking briskly back to the table, Dell picked up the plate and stepped forward, just a few inches further out than he knew Soldier could reach. He picked up a strip of bacon with his bare hand. "Open up. And don't bite."

He laid down the bacon to watch the Soldier's jaw twitch for a minute or so, then picked it back up and sent him a look.

"It's just food, Solly. If you don't want it, that's fine, but tell me instead of gettin' me to walk all the way over here and—"

Soldier gulped. His eyes were darting around the room as he licked his lips. Dell wondered if he would try to choke himself to death with the chains again, but when the man met his eyes, he knew the choice he'd made. He raised up the strip of bacon (it was nearly cold now) as Soldier opened his mouth.

"See, now, there's a good boy." Dell watched Soldier chew for a bit before piling some scrambled eggs on top of a triangle of toast. "Gonna have to open up wide for this one… Ah, there you go."

Dell patted Soldier's cheek as he was chewing through his last bite.

"Engie—"

"Oh, I reckon you'll be thirsty now, too, won't you?" He shook his head as he put the plate back on the table. "Sorry, partner. I just didn't think ahead on that one."

Soldier swallowed, and Dell could tell from the effort it took him how dry his mouth was. "It's fine."

"No, it's not fine. Here I am, fillin' you with greasy bacon and dry toast, and I can't even give you a drink to wash it all down. I'm terrible." He let the silence linger, and knew Soldier probably agreed with that, mentally. What a kick. "I think I might have one thing down here you'd like, though. Might even have given it to you before." He ran his thumb beneath one of the straps on his overalls, licking his teeth. "Matter of fact, I'm damn sure I've given it to you before."

Soldier backed up. "I'm really not thirsty at all, Engie," he said swiftly. He must have thought the way he was looking at Dell would make him believe the lie.

"Nonsense, Solly," Dell said. "Look at you; you're parched! But I got just the right thing to pick you up." He undid his overalls and shucked them off, ignoring the way Soldier gave a full-body flinch and then tensed like a board.

"Engie, I—"

"What have I told you about your mouth, Private?" Dell asked quietly as he walked up to Soldier. He might be shorter than the man, and he might be half-naked, but he was still in complete control of the situation. Soldier's glare may as well have come from a dead man. When he remained silent, Dell smiled, but gripped his jaw harshly, pressing in on the tender spots beneath his ears. "That's right: You ought to keep it shut until you're told otherwise. You just ain't made for talkin', Private.

"Now, get on your knees, and show me what you _were _made for."

He reached up and laid his hands on Soldier's shoulders—just to help guide the way, of course—and patted the man's head once he was kneeling before him. He'd forced Soldier to grow it out longer than the buzz cut he had kept beneath that helmet of his; now, Dell could nearly bury his fingers in it completely. It was brown, surprisingly soft. He gripped it hard and jerked Soldier's head up to look him in the eye.

"Remember, Private: No biting." He knew he didn't have to give the warning anymore: Soldier had never tried to bite, not since Dell had broken his teeth the first time. (Luckily, his attempts at replicating Respawn had let him grow them back; Soldier just didn't carry the toothless look well.) It was just the principle of the thing, he thought as he shoved the man's head back down. "Get on with it."

Soldier pulled Dell's briefs down with the minimum amount of finesse he could use without earning a reprimand, and tucked into his cock like it was the Last Supper. His tight grip on Dell's thighs made the man laugh; he'd never done that before, not until Dell had thrust hard and deep into his throat and made him choke on it.

All of his skill at sucking came from those small fears. The way he grabbed Dell with just the right amount of force. The way he bobbed his head erratically, unpredictably, so there was never a dull moment he could be punished for. The way he kept his teeth behind his lips.

Dell was especially pleased by how much Soldier had learned to do with his tongue, ever since he'd cut it off (because if it wasn't going to do anything for him, he couldn't see the point in it taking up all that space). It had been so gratifying to see the man nearly in tears when he'd tossed the thing down on the floor, but it was even more gratifying now that he'd regrown it and was actually _doing _something with it.

Soldier also knew enough to let Dell guide his head when he was getting close; knew enough to swallow when he came, lick the excess from his lips before Dell could comment on his wastefulness.

Dell patted Soldier's cheek one last time before getting up to put his overalls on, the only noise in the room the rustle of denim until he asked, "Did that slake your thirst, Solly?" He was back to grinning.

"It did. Thanks, Engie." Soldier was staring at the far wall as he said it.

"That's real good. I'll see you later, all right?" Dell walked back up the stairs with the empty plate, whistling as he thought of a good way to punish Soldier for failing to look him in the eye.


End file.
